


New

by DaisyFairy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confusion, Crack, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, New Relationship, Unconventional Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: John and Sherlock have just begun a relationship, but when they venture outside for the first time since getting together it becomes obvious that Sherlock has not quite understood John's intentions.





	

John walks down the street trying to keep the massive grin that wants to appear on his face under control. Next to him Sherlock is striding along as if nothing has happened, as if they hadn’t just spent the whole weekend wrapped around one another in bed celebrating the end of over half a decade of denial and the beginning of their new... Well they haven’t named it yet, John is going with relationship, but he would be equally happy with partnership or any other term Sherlock wants to use.

They are walking closer than normal, their shoulders brushing every few steps send a small thrill down John’s spine and his grin becomes even harder to repress.  He glances up at his new...something, but Sherlock’s face is impassive. John would be worried but they are on the way to a crime scene so it makes sense for Sherlock to want to be professional, and honestly his mind is probably already working on the case, analysing statistics and turning the facts that Greg texted to them over in his mind.

They forego a cab, Sherlock is eager to get there quickly and extensive roadworks mean that traffic is virtually at a standstill. They head down into the labyrinth of the underground and brave the crush of bodies. They manage to travel the tube in the same car, but end up standing at opposite ends of the carriage.

\-------

  
John and Sherlock emerge from the underground station eager to be in the fresh air and to feel less like sardines in a tin.

Sherlock leans a little closer to John as they walk and says “You should have given her your number.”

John stops dead in the middle of the pavement. Sherlock continues walking for a few steps and has to backtrack to re-join him. The two men stand there like an island in the middle of a stream of commuters, the  jostling by passers-by pushes them together until there is barely any space between them. John stares up at Sherlock and blinks several times, “Which ‘her’ are you talking about?”

“The one on the tube, 5’ 4”, brown hair, green eyes, wearing the blue dress. She was next to you, checking you out. You should have given her your number.”

“Why would I do that? You, we, we spent the weekend together. I don’t understand.”

“So that you can find someone to settle down with of course. It is obviously what you want.”

A rather large lady steps on John’s toes and he yelps in pain. He grabs Sherlock by the elbow and drags him into the mouth of a nearby alley so that they can continue their conversation in peace.

“I’m with you now, or at least I thought I was. Why would you want me to go after some woman.”

Sherlock smiles sadly. “It was very kind of you too indulge me this weekend, let me play make believe for a while, but we both know that your feelings for me do not extend beyond the physical. I’m more than happy to sleep with you for the time being. You deserve to have some fun while you are searching for the next Mrs Watson, and, well, I’ve had a lot of fun too. But you have been saying for weeks that you are ready to settle down again, find ‘the one’, you may as well start now, and that woman was clearly interested.”

John is doing a rather good impression of a fish out of water, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. Ok so he hadn't actually said those three little words yet, he hadn't wanted to scare Sherlock off, but he can’t believe that the so called genius had gotten things so spectacularly wrong. “You wanted to play make believe?”

Sherlock looks nervous “Yes, I'm sorry, I know you don’t feel like that but I pretended that you did, just for a while. You don’t mind do you?”

John shakes his head, partly an answer but mostly a rejection of this whole crazy situation he has ended up in. This needs drastic action, no more worrying about scaring Sherlock off, he needs to prove his devotion to the idiot before Sherlock starts trying to marry him off to every eligible woman in London.

“Wait here.” John mumbles then moves out of the haven of the alley and back into the bustle of the street.

He looks around but is unable to see what he was looking for. There are takeaway restaurants serving food from every corner of the world, there is a betting shop, a nail bar and two massage parlours. A second glance shows that one is a massage parlour and the other is a “massage parlour”, his mind wanders briefly as he wonders if they have an arrangement for referring clients who end up in the wrong premises. He moves a little further down the street and spots a newsagents just around the corner. He smiles widely as a plan forms, not what he had intended, but it will do.

Several minutes later John re-joins a confused looking Sherlock in the alley. John is holding a small plastic package in his hands which he opens carefully so as not to spill it. He rifles through the contents, pulling out a foam and jelly fried egg, he frowns at it and looks up at Sherlock then pops it into Sherlock’s mouth.

Sherlock chews and swallows the sweet quickly to question John about his behaviour. He doesn't get a chance however because John finds what he is looking for and pulls it free, scattering sweets over the ground as he does so. Stowing the packaging in his pocket he holds out a single sweet between his thumb and first finger and drops to one knee.

“Sherlock Holmes. I do want to settle down, but the person I want to do that with is you. I love you. I won’t be giving my number out, or dating anyone but you. Will you marry me?”

Sherlock frowns “You want to marry me?”, John nods. “And you are proposing to me with a jelly ring?”

John grins up at him and waggles the brightly coloured sweet from side to side. “Yes I am. You should have told me your crazy theory somewhere with a jewellery shop if you wanted a real ring.”

Sherlock swallows nervously, he trusts John but this is beyond anything he had considered possible, he needs confirmation. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes, every word. I don't go buying Haribo for just anyone you know. If you say yes I’ll even let you finish the packet, I think there's a heart in there somewhere.”

Sherlock smiles and takes the ring, then very carefully and seriously stretches it onto his finger. “Yes. I will. I never dared to believe this would happen, I love you.”

John stands and brushes dirt off of his knee, then fishes the packet out of his pocket and passes it over. He gives Sherlock a peck on the lips then links their arms and pulls him out into the street. They continue their previous route to the crime scene arm in arm, this time with large grins on their faces. Sherlock manages to eat the remainder of the Haribo one handed, popping the last one into John’s mouth and then picks up his speed, dragging John along.

John giggles “Eager to get to the crime scene?”

“Eager to show Lestrade my engagement ring.”

John laughs harder “He’s going to think you are ridiculous if you do that.”

“Lestrade knows that I am ridiculous, he is going to think that  _you_ are ridiculous.”

“Let’s go be ridiculous together then,” John says, “race you.” He pulls his arm away from Sherlock and sets off at a run, pursued by a man who would describe himself as the happiest detective in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because I had an image in my head of John proposing with a Haribo ring. It was written quite quickly so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> I love kudos and comments, go on, don't be shy, click the button :-)
> 
> I am DaisyFairy1 on Tumblr.


End file.
